


Buttons

by inkin_brushes



Series: girls!AU (EXO) [5]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkin_brushes/pseuds/inkin_brushes
Summary: Considering it had only been a week since Baekhyun had seen Kris, she really didn’t think the way he currently looked was acceptable in any way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This had to be reposted several times on lj, because it kept getting deleted. Why, we're not sure. But yes.

Baekhyun rapped on the door to Kris’s house, bouncing on the heels of her feet. The weather outside was cold and brisk, but she’d taken the chance to dress up a little, in a somewhat short skirt and a new blouse she’d bought only recently, cream with buttons in different shapes and colours. It had been a week since she’d last seen Kris, as she’d been away at a choir camp, and she wanted to make an impression.

The door opened a couple of minutes after she’d knocked, Kris pulling it open with a curious look that softened into a smile as he saw her. “Hey,” he said, pulling the door open. She stepped inside, pulling her coat from her shoulders. “I wasn’t expecting you for another hour. How was your camp?”

“Fun!” Baekhyun said brightly. She’d been there with Kyungsoo, as Junmyeon had been visiting her grandparents in another state at the time, and it had been a pretty great trip. “We learned a new song, and our school came fifth in the sing-off, which is like, at least ten places higher than last year or something.” 

She hung up her coat and turned to him, finally getting a good look at him in the hall light. Her mouth dropped open. Considering it had only been a week since she’d seen him, she really didn’t think the way he currently looked was acceptable in any way.

He stood blinking at her. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants with a hole in the left leg and a ratty off-white t-shirt, his hair messy and obviously unbrushed. He had what looked like a small furry animal growing from his jaw, if that small furry animal was missing fur in alarming patches. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

Baekhyun motioned to him, waving her hand up and down his body. “You’re kidding me, right?” she asked flatly. 

He looked down at himself and then back at her. “What?” he asked.

“Look at yourself,” Baekhyun said. “You look like you’re on drugs. Have you shaved at all in the past week?” She leaned in and sniffed at him. “Have you _showered_ in the past week?”

He shrugged, apathy in his every move. “I wasn’t going anywhere,” he said.

“Oh my god, it’s worse than I thought,” Baekhyun said faintly. She prodded his stomach. “Go shower right now. And shave that monstrosity off your face.”

Kris rubbed at his jaw with the back of his hand. “Don’t you think it makes me look manly?” he asked.

“It makes you look homeless,” she told him. She turned him around, shoving him in the direction of the bathroom. He went easily but heaved out a sigh as he went. 

In the bathroom, she grabbed his razor and shoved it at him, waggling it in his face. “Here,” she said. “Shave your stupid face.”

“Or what?” he asked, peering at her, slumped against the sink.

“Or I’ll never kiss you again,” she said firmly. He snorted. “I’m serious, I don’t want _that_ anywhere near my face.” She dropped the razor on the edge of the sink and leaned over to turn the water on. He grabbed her wrists and tried to pull her towards him, face lowering like he was going to kiss her.

She shrieked as loudly as she could, trying to pull away from him, twisting her face. “No!” she yelled. “Shave and shower first! You’re disgusting!”

“I just want a kiss,” he said, “it’s been a week, what does it -- whoa.” He pulled her back suddenly; in her attempts at twisting away from him she’d hit the side of the bathtub and almost fallen in. She regained her balance quickly while he seemed like he was getting ready to apologise, and pulled out of his hold, danced around him, ran out of the door and slammed it shut behind her. 

“Shave it all off!” she called, holding onto the door tightly while he rattled the door knob menacingly. She waited until he had moved away before sticking her tongue out at the door and flouncing off to his bedroom.

She wrinkled her nose as she took in the mess. There were clothes everywhere, strewn all over his floor and bed and desk chair. There were snack wrappers on his desk next to an empty bowl that had apparently once held cereal. The bed was unmade, sheets flung every which way.

She could hear the sound of the shower starting up, but she shouted, “I’m your girlfriend, not your mother!” at the bathroom door anyway. Then she sighed and started picking up clothes from the floor, holding them between her thumb and forefinger as she tossed him into his laundry basket.

By the time she’d cleared the room of clothes and swept all the snack wrappers in the trash, the shower had shut off. She stomped back to the kitchen and put the bowl in the sink, making a mental note to make him wash it later on. She grabbed two cans of soda from the fridge, while there was the noise of the bathroom door opening and closing.

“I can’t believe,” she complained, walking back into his bedroom, “that you’re apparently incapable of washing a single dish after you’ve used it.”

He turned to look at her, rubbing a towel against his hair. The dead furry animal was gone, leaving him freshly shaven. He was wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts and a fresh white t-shirt, sleeves just short enough to show the tattoo on his upper arm. He stretched lazily, running a hand through his wet hair and slicking it back. “Hmm? What do you mean?”

Baekhyun put one of the cans of soda on his side table and sat down on his bed. Her mouth had suddenly gone quite dry. “The bowl,” she said. “The one that had cereal in it.” She opened her soda and sipped at it.

“Oh,” he said. “That was only from a couple of hours ago.”

“It’s almost five,” she pointed out.

“You can eat cereal any time of the day.” He began moving around the room, apparently looking for something. “You moved everything,” he complained.

“I tidied up,” she retorted. “It was a mess. What are you looking for?”

He squinted at her. “My phone.”

“It’s on your desk next to your AP chemistry book,” she said. He went over to his desk and looked for a second, while she sat, transfixed. There was a bead of water running slowly down the side of his face, down his neck, and as she watched, it soaked into the collar of his shirt. He began checking his phone and she watched the muscles in his arms move under his skin.

She stared down at her soda can desperately. She felt -- strange was the only word for it, her brain replaying the way the water had soaked into his shirt, projected against a backdrop of his hands in his hair. She wanted, suddenly, with great clarity, his hands in _her_ hair. It was a strange thing to want.

She sneaked a glance up and saw him open his can of soda, long fingers pulling the ring back. She shuffled on the bed before bringing her feet up, tucking them underneath herself, legs pressed together. He sipped at the soda idly, still looking at his phone, and her face felt slightly hot. She pressed the back of her hand to it, a weird rushing noise in her ears.

After a minute she became aware that he was talking to her. “Baekhyun?” he asked loudly, the noise suddenly cutting through the fuzz in her ears. She jumped.

“W-what?” she asked, aware that she was probably blushing furiously. 

He looked like he wanted to ask what the hell was wrong with her but instead he just repeated his question. “I asked if my mom was back with dinner yet?”

“Oh,” she said, “no, she isn’t. It’s just you and me.”

He stopped sipping his soda and turned to face her, staring at her. “Just me and you?” he repeated.

She nodded. “Yes,” she said, and then blushed harder when he raised an eyebrow at her.

“And you made me take a shower?” he asked in disbelief. 

“Well, you looked and smelled like you’d been living in a ditch somewhere!”

“I haven’t seen you in a week,” he said, “and we have the house to ourselves, and you make me shower. _Alone_.”

“Well, I was never going to join you in there anyway,” she said grumpily. He shook his head at her. “Well,” she asked, shyly, “aren’t you going to come and kiss me then?”

For a second he almost looked like he didn’t know what to do. Then he set his soda down and came over to the bed, tossing his wet towel on the floor. She almost protested, but then he sat down opposite her and tugged her into his lap. One hand smoothed her hair back, the other going around her waist.

When he kissed her, it was soft and sweet, his mouth moving against hers gently. She touched her hands to his chest, settling into his lap more comfortably. He kissed her languidly for a long time, the soft way his hands were touching her throat and cheek making her feel hot again all over.

Suddenly he gathered her up and laid her out on the bed, hovering over her, bracing his forearms on either side of her head. He kissed her mouth, then both her cheeks, then down her throat, just gentle presses of his mouth. She giggled. “I always thought my first kiss would be more like this,” she said, musing aloud.

“Hmm?” He lifted back up, peering at her. “How did it go?”

She blinked at him and laughed. “You were there!”

It took him a minute. Then his face went positively ashy. “Wait, you mean, that time in the closet-- that was your first kiss?” She nodded and wrapped her hands around his arms to stop him from moving away like he was threatening to. “I _am_ a monster,” he said. “They were right, I did practically maul you.”

“How could you have not known?” She was more amused than anything. “I had no idea what I was doing.”

“It didn’t show,” he said stoutly. “I just thought you were nervous, being locked up in there with me. I didn’t blame you.”

“I liked it,” she told him.

“It was your first kiss, it shouldn’t have been like that. I just wanted to make an impression.”

“Well,” she said, sliding her hands up into his hair and tugging him back down. “You did.”

He kissed her again, harder than before. He slid one hand into her hair, dropping his weight down on her a little more. She kissed back almost desperately, wanting more, wanting harder.

She clutched his arms, his skin warm and soft. He tilted her head a little, taking just as he had done that first time, barely even giving her time to breathe. As he kissed her, she arched a little, squirming a bit. Recently, when he kissed her, it had been almost impossible to ignore the strange, heated way he made her feel. But right then, it _was_ impossible, the only thought breaking through the fuzziness in her head was the desire for his hands to move lower on her body, even while sanity fought against it.

“I missed you,” he mumbled against her mouth.

“I missed you too-- oh!” she broke off with a gasp as he sucked lightly against her throat. “No, not there, I have-- tomorrow-- grandparents--”

“Oh? Then how about here?” His head dipped lower and sucked on her collarbone, hard. She pressed into him with a small cry. The terrifying ache was back between her legs, the one she, so far, learned to ignore, because the thought of letting him do anything about it was even more terrifying. She wanted him to do something about it. She wanted him to make it go away.

His hands dropped to the buttons of her shirt, fiddling with them. “This is pretty,” he said, before he slid his hands back into her hair.

“Mmm,” she mumbled vaguely. “You can take it off, if you want.”

He stared at her. He’d had his hand up her shirt before but she’d never let him take it off yet. “Really?”

She was blushing again but she said, “Yes,” firmly. 

He started undoing the buttons immediately, kissing her again, eagerly. She let her mouth fall open, his tongue sliding in easily, licking against hers slowly. Underneath her shirt she was only wearing a camisole; for the most part she found it unnecessary to wear a bra with most of her clothing. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat when he saw. She thought it sounded pleased.

He looked at her, eyes moving over her face with an intensity that made her stomach clench. “Can I--?” he asked, making an upwards movement with his hands.

It took her a short moment to put it together and when she did, she was surprised that after a moment of hesitation, the answer seemed obvious, springing to her tongue easily. The ache between her legs demanded his hands on her skin. “Yes.”

He kissed her again as he slowly lifted the camisole, sliding the thin material up her body as though he thought any second she’d tell him to stop. She didn’t, but she shivered, both from sudden nerves and how cold the air seemed to be against her body; or was it just that she was too hot.

He didn’t take the camisole off, just pushed it up until it was bunched under her arms. She felt more than a little silly. He lifted his head and looked down at her, making her blush and squirm. There had been a reason she had never let him take her shirt off, and a reason she rarely wore a bra. There was something so embarrassing about her boobs, something pathetic about how small they were. Next to Kyungsoo and Junmyeon, she’d always felt childlike, unfeminine. 

It was impossible to read on Kris’s face what he was thinking, which made it worse. Her hands lay on the bed by her head and she moved them, half thinking of covering herself up. He noticed the movement and the next second he had her wrists pinned to the bed, staring at her face intently again. Then he slowly dropped his head and brushed his lips over her left nipple.

“Oh,” she said, breathlessly, “no, you can’t -- _oh_.” Her fingers fluttered uselessly, pinned down, as he sucked at her nipple gently, tongue flicking lazily against it in his mouth. Pleasure shot through her, her back arching slightly as if to push up further into his mouth. His tongue moved in slow circles, her nipples hardening.

His wrists barely had to hold her down anymore; if he left go she wouldn’t move her hands. She lay there pliant on the mattress, his mouth against her breast, her entire world shrunken down to how good it felt to have his mouth on her, and how much she hurt between her legs. He turned his head to her other nipple, and she twisted towards him, making a small whine of confusion and want as the ache between her legs throbbed.

Her legs fell open, spreading in an attempt at lessening some of the pressure in her. He shifted, moving between her legs. She mumbled something and only became aware of what it was when he said, “Fuck,” and scraped his teeth a little as he sucked on her nipple again; she cried out, arched her hips, and realised it had been _please_.

There was something about the way his mouth moved that made her feel unbelievably good and unbelievably wretched at the same time. It had never been like this, never, and all the things she had told herself recently, about being good, about not rushing, about not doing things _wrong_ flew out of her mind. She wanted to feel _good_. 

“Please,” she gasped out again, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she was asking for exactly, just that she was asking for _something_. He dropped down against her even more, aligning his hips to hers, lips just brushing her nipple in a way that felt even worse than before. She writhed on the bed, and he gave a rather breathless chuckle.

“Haven’t seen you like this,” he said. “I think I like it.” He pressed his hips to hers and she realised he was hard, obvious in his boxers. She’d suspected before, sensed that kissing her had turned him on almost as much as it did her, but it had been hard to tell when he was wearing jeans. But now she could feel the heat of him, and where once it would have shocked her into stopping, now it just made her want more.

But he seemed determined to give her no more, holding his hips still, his tongue flicking against her nipple quickly. It was like he had no idea of what he was doing to her, she thought grumpily, and in a fit of desperation and pure craziness she brought her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, pressing up into him.

The material shifted her skirt so that when she pressed up, his erection pressed against the thin material of her underwear. Kris made a choked noise, his mouth lifting from her for a second as he rested his forehead against her collarbone. “Baekhyun, you--” he said, a pant in his voice that she didn’t think she’d heard before.

She could only shake her head wordlessly. The ache between her legs was painful now, throbbing in a way that made her head spin. Even when she’d touched herself before it had never felt like this before, never this intense. She pressed harder against him in desperation, trying to express what she couldn’t say in words.

He cursed, sucked hard against her nipple again, and as he did so he circled his hips, grinding against her. She cried out, head tipping back, body held tight with tension. Maybe she asked for more, she wasn’t aware of speaking, maybe she didn’t need to, but he ground down again, more firmly.

She sobbed, once, and he rubbed against her for a third time, and she came, gasping loudly. She clenched around nothing and for a second she wished his fingers were inside her. The thought made her sob again. Her hips jerked against him, and she was aware of him groaning, but she felt weightless, his tongue still swiping large circles against her left nipple, drawing out the aftershocks. She squirmed and then slumped down onto the bed, her legs falling away from his waist.

“Oh,” she said shakily.

He hadn’t come, she noticed. He held himself up off her carefully, his cock -- she averted her eyes -- pressing against his boxers. She took a couple of deep, fortifying breaths, still pulsing lazily between her legs. The thought of his fingers came back to her and she moaned, trying to bring her legs together, but his were in the way. 

He released her hands and moved to cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing against her face, brushing some of her hair away. He kissed her, remarkably softly. She kissed back, her entire body tingling, and with her now free hands reached down to palm, shyly and curiously, at the front of his boxers.

“Fuck,” he choked out against her mouth. His cock _twitched_ against her hand. It was so warm. “Fuck, _fuck_.” And he came, within seconds of her touch, hips stuttering seemingly involuntarily. She withdrew her hands and kissed his mouth, butting her chin up. 

There was silence for a short while, a pause before he kissed her back, still cupping her face in his hands. She was strangely tired, wanted him to do nothing more than keep kissing her like this. But eventually he lifted himself off her with a groan.

“Fucking--” he muttered, pulling at the front of his boxers. “What am I, thirteen? How embarrassing.”

She giggled. He gave her a soft smile, looking at her fondly and making her blush all over again. It brought back to her how exposed she was and she shuffled, pulling her camisole back down over her chest. He slid off the bed, rummaged in a drawer, and began walking out of the door, grumbling something about the bathroom, slightly bowlegged. She laughed harder at the sight.

She lay on the bed as she heard the bathroom door open and shut, trying to take stock of herself. She felt tingly. If she tried she could still feel the ghost of his mouth on her and she sat up, moving restlessly.

The bathroom door opened again and he came out wearing a new pair of boxers. “So gross,” he grumbled. She slid off the side of the bed and became aware of the uncomfortable dampness between her legs.

She winced. “I need to use the bathroom too,” she said, and darted past him.

After she did her best to clean herself up -- not that she really knew how, this was a rather new development -- she stood staring at herself in the mirror. She was flushed, her hair a mess. She brushed it with her fingers. She was halfway through when she stopped and said, in a horrified voice at her reflection, “Oh my god, what did I just do?”

She had just orgasmed, her reflection seemed to inform her, without him even really doing anything. She had come from only having his mouth on her boobs. Never mind him thinking he had been embarrassing, she could not have proven herself more of an inexperienced virgin if she’d tried.

And yet, it had felt good, very good. She knew now why both Junmyeon and Kyungsoo had had sex by now, while she’d been too scared to even let him see under her shirt. She thought again about his fingers and blushed all over again. She hoped it wasn’t a thought that kept recurring. She wasn’t sure she could get through life like this.

Back in his room he was flopped across his bed on his back. He’d opened the window while she’d been gone. He looked up and then sat up, smiling at her. “Hey.” She smiled back but averted her eyes, flushing. He reached out and snagged her hand and she looked up quickly, saw the intense look on his face, and then looked down again. “Are you embarrassed?” he asked seriously. “Don’t be embarrassed.” 

“I just,” Baekhyun mumbled, “you didn’t even do anything. I mean. With you. And I was just...like that.”

He shook his head. “That’s not embarrassing. I liked it, a lot. I wanted you to-- feel like that.” Although he stumbled over his words a little, he was looking at her closely and there wasn’t a trace of a blush on his face.

He tugged her gently by the hand until she was sitting in his lap again. He kissed her cheeks until she laughed and pushed him away. “It did feel good,” she admitted. “Really good.”

He chuckled at her. “I’m glad. Now I should probably put some clothes on and then we can go watch TV so my mom doesn’t kill us.”

When his mom walked in the front door some time later carrying cartons of Chinese food, she found them sitting on his couch, Baekhyun curled into Kris’s side, his arm across her shoulders. They were watching _Fight Club_ because she’d admitted she’d never seen it and he had said that she had an obligation as a member of this generation to watch it. She wasn’t sure she liked it.

His mom peered at them suspiciously. “Hello,” she said. Baekhyun chirped it back. “How long have you been here, Baekhyun?”

Kris looked at the DVD player. “Well, we’re half an hour into this so like, forty minutes?”

His mom looked unconvinced but dropped the subject, moving into the kitchen calling at them to come help plate up the food if they wanted to eat. Baekhyun jumped up to help and Kris snagged her wrist for a second, pulling her down into a quick kiss. “I really did miss you,” he said.

“I’m going to need you to promise me,” she said, “that if I ever go away again, you’ll shave and shower and otherwise maintain normal levels of bodily hygiene.”

He laughed and released her. “I’ll promise no such thing.”


End file.
